


Guiá de las Colinas

by rosewindow



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, Gen, Spain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-25 18:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewindow/pseuds/rosewindow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the turn of the thirteenth century, Spain is a constantly shifting map of Christian kingdoms and Muslim taifas, knights from Europe are being called in to help with the Christian Reconquista of Spain, and flocks of pilgrims travel along El Camino to Santiago de Compostela in the west. After an animal bite, a young man finds himself drawn into an age old conflict between a family of French knights and a group of local mercenaries. Meanwhile, someone is attacking pilgrims on El Camino...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There’s a lamp in the monastery at Rincón that’s always lit.

Many years ago, a group of pilgrims entered the mountains, sure they could make it through the treacherous passes before night fell. They made good time, but night falls more quickly in the hills, and the path was not very clear. They made camp on a narrow ledge, certain they would not survive the night, for they had little firewood and a pack of wolves circled closer. A little after midnight, a light appeared. They thought at first it was in the sky, but there was no moon. It was a woman bearing a lantern on a nearby peak. She was a simple peasant who lived alone in the hills, and no living soul knew them better. In desperation, the pilgrims tried to reach her and her light, but soon lost their way among the rocks. The wolves began to circle again, and the pilgrims had no fire now to drive them away. Suddenly the light reappeared, and the wolves all sat down as still as stone, like hunting dogs at their master’s command. Holding her beacon ahead of her, the woman led the pilgrims out of the mountains and returned them to the road, with the wolves following obediently at their heels.

The woman’s name is lost to us now, but she has been called La Guiá de las Colinas, the Beacon of the Hills. She guided many pilgrims through the mountains, keeping them on the safe paths. Her lantern hangs in the monastery over a small statue of her and a wolf, to this day guiding pilgrims into the safety of our walls.

\---

The first stone Scott lobbed at the monastery missed and clattered against the wall. The second made contact with the window, but he could tell that it hadn’t been loud enough. The third clanked solidly against the glass. He pressed himself against the wall, ready to run in case one of the brothers came to the window. A face appeared, and smiled widely at the sight of Scott. He grinned back and made a “come here” gesture. The figure nodded, and then ducked away quickly.

It would take Stiles a while to escape from Brother Adrian, so Scott wandered towards the wall. The north part of the wall was half natural stone, and half cut blocks, and the steps were steep. He was out of breath by the time he got to the top. He leaned heavily against the crenellations and looked out at the mountains.

The hills stretched in ranks northward towards France with the river slipping between them in a shining band of light under the afternoon sun. The hills closest to town were gentle and mostly green, but farther away they stretched into stony crags and then up into steep-sloped mountains. The pilgrims' road was empty as far as Scott could see, as was the road that broke off towards the old Hale castle. The castle itself wasn't visible from the town, even from the monastery walls which were the highest, but there was a thin wisp of smoke rising above the first rocky peak. Scott frowned. The castle was practically a ruin; there was no one living there nowadays. Maybe a pilgrim had just stopped and lit a fire for an early dinner.

He followed the wall to his right and passed over the Northern Gate and past the Eastern Keep. It too was usually empty, but today there was a flurry of activity inside the walls. He watched for a while as trunks were unloaded, tapestries shaken out, and linens dried in the sun.

A bell at the monastery began to ring, and Scott guessed it was about time to meet Stiles. He kept going along the wall, down the steps into the square, and to the apothecary shop where he and Stiles worked on occasion.

Deaton looked up from the counter. “I wondered if the arrival of your partner in crime meant that you’d be along too. He’s in the back.”

Scott smiled, and went into the crowded workspace at the back of the building to find Stiles fiddling with one of Deaton’s various instruments.

“Guess what I heard?”

“Dude, I have something to tell you!”

They spoke at the same time.

Stiles laughed. “You first.”

“Someone’s moving back into the Eastern Keep. There was a guy in last night talking about it, and I just saw people opening it up.”

“Did he say who it was?”

The Keep had been occupied on and off throughout their lives, but it had been empty for the past six years. The last tenants had been an old man and his daughter who had vanished in the middle of the night.

“Some French knight called Argent. Apparently he’s bringing a sizeable retinue, and his family.”

“Huh. I wonder if he has anything to do with my news.” Stiles was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Which is?”

“They found a body in the mountains. My dad went out today to investigate, and I heard Adrian talking to the Abbot about it. We’ve gotta go check it out.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Where is your sense of adventure, Scott? Would one of King Arthur’s knights stay safe in the town with such evil on the loose? No! Would El Cid cower away beyond a wall? No! We have to investigate! For justice, for courtesy, for the glory of God and all the saints!”

Scott gave his best friend a look. “You’ve been working on that all day haven’t you?”

“Yeah, we were just marking pages today, but that’s not the point. The point is, we’re going.”

Scott sighed, and Stiles grinned, certain that he’d won.

“Sometimes I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because I’m wonderful. Come on, the light’s fading. Let’s go.”

\---

Stiles rode a sweet, old mare, who ought to have been sainted for putting up with Scott and Stiles for years. They could still both ride her, but she was getting more and more ornery about it, and they’d probably have to find a new way to travel soon enough.

The road north into the mountains paralleled the river, and it was an easy ride up to the road leading off to Hale Castle. There the mountains really started.

Scott peered through the gathering darkness, certain that every tree and rock was a brigand or wolf about to kill them. A gust of wind stirred the branches, and he had a terrible thought.

“Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“What if whatever left the body is still out here?”

“Uhh. That is a possibility I had not considered.”

Scott tightened his grip on Stiles’s waist. “It’s comforting to know you’ve planned this out with your usual attention to detail.”

“I know.”

He could hear the smirk in Stiles’s voice.

“Try not to get us killed, thanks.”

“Just keep an eye out, would you?”

They went on. Stiles held out a lantern and steered, while Scott scanned the hills around them for any signs of people, alive or otherwise. He saw the lights of the Sheriff and his men on a nearby slope, and pointed them out to Stiles. He swung the reins and they headed off the trail away from them.

The mountains were treacherous, but he and Stiles had spent most of their lives running around the hills every chance they got, and knew them as well as anyone. Anyway, you weren’t considered grown-up until you’d spent a night in the hills without any light at all. He and Stiles had done it earlier in the year, but they almost hadn’t made it through the night because just after midnight a chorus of wolves had started up too close for comfort.

“I think we’re on Hale land now,” Stiles whispered. “Yeah; that’s one of their markers.”

He waved his lantern at the stone pillar and a carved wolf head loomed out of the darkness.

“It’s like they’re trying to be super terrifying,” Stiles scoffed, but he kept his voice low.

A wolf howled, practically right on top of them, and the horse reared and bolted back towards town. Stiles and the light went with her, leaving Scott winded on the ground, unable to get enough air in to call Stiles back. He was long gone anyway; Scott couldn’t even hear the sound of hooves anymore. He picked himself up and checked for major injuries before starting the long trek back to civilization.

“Why do I always let Stiles talk me into these things?” He grumbled. “They never go to plan. I could be in bed right now.”

His foot caught on a loose piece of rock, sending him sprawling and skidding down a little hill.

“This sort of thing never happens to El Cid,” he groaned.

At least there was more light now. The moon had finally risen higher than the mountains, and it was a little over half full. Plenty of light to find his way home - and plenty of light to discover half a body.

Scott shrieked and threw himself backwards, away from the woman’s torso. He took off running, barely caring what direction he went so long as it was away. It was one thing to hear about massive wounds and the dead in songs and epics, but another thing entirely to have one right in front of you. He was going to have nightmares for weeks. He paused, panting for air, sucking in deep breaths as evenly as he could to try and calm down.

A twig snapped behind him.

Scott turned slowly. He wasn’t an expert on the native animals, but he was pretty sure none of them had glowing red eyes. Whatever it was growled, much deeper than a dog’s growl, and launched itself forward. Scott barely had time to register surprise before the thing was on him. As he felt a sharp pain in his side, he sent one final prayer to the Virgin, certain he was about to die.

But the thing released him, so Scott took off running, offering up thanks to every saint he could remember. When he somehow found the road, he almost cried with relief, muttering thanks to La Guiá de las Colinas.

While he walked back towards the city, the pain in his side made itself known. He inspected the damage and groaned. It had mostly stopped bleeding, which was fortunate, but his tunic and cote were probably ruined. The thing had managed to bite or claw through both layers, and he could feel deep marks on his skin. He was never going to forgive Stiles if he died out here.

\---

“Out of bed, lazybones. You and Stiles weren’t causing any trouble last night were you?”

Scott groaned. His mother’s voice was particularly loud this morning due to his lack of sleep.

“We need some more bales of hay. Would you get them from the loft?” His mother bustled away and Scott dragged himself out of bed. He was achey in ways he didn’t want to contemplate, and did not relish the thought of hoisting the heavy bales down into the stables.

He checked the dressing he’d hastily tied on last night, and then dressed quickly. There was a crispness in the morning air, like the scent of pines. The rank stable scent covered it up quickly though; he’d have to muck it out today. He climbed up to the loft, lost in thought, and reached for the first bale of hay. It swung up easily in his hands, and Scott was so surprised that he dropped it on his foot. He cursed. Nope, just as heavy as he remembered. He picked it up again and dropped it over the edge, where it landed with a thump. Two more followed quickly, and Scott headed back inside, already feeling better about the day.

\---

Everyone in town was so excited about the arrival of the new knight that it was practically like a feast day. Scott found his mind wandering while he worked at the hospice in the morning. He kept getting distracted by little things - sights, smells, and sounds all catching his attention more than usual. It was worse at Deaton's shop. He felt itchy and wrong in his skin, especially on his side where he'd been wounded. He would have to get Stiles to help him look at that, after he yelled at him for leaving him in the woods.

Stiles appeared a little after noon, yawning widely. "Dude, I'm so glad you got back okay. I was coming back to look for you, but I ran into my dad and he dragged me home. And I have to go help with Lauds every morning this week as punishment. You didn't get into any trouble did you?"

Scott shook his head. “Not from my mom. But something attacked me in the mountains. I thought it was a wolf, but it was way too big, and freaky.”

“What!? Are you okay?” Stiles reached out and prodded at him, checking for injuries.

“Pretty okay. It got my side though. Actually, could you check it?” Scott lifted his cote, then his tunic, and Stiles pushed the bandage down.

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

“What?”

“Getting me all worried about nothing. Yeah, fine, I probably deserve it for leaving you in the woods, but seriously. I thought you might be dying, man.”

Scott frowned, and twisted so he could look at his side. There was no mark in sight.


	2. Chapter 2

Scott was trying very hard not to freak out. There had been something, hadn’t there? A bite or a scratch? Of course there had - he’d seen the blood, and the tears in his clothes. He unwound the bandage, running his fingers wonderingly over the unbroken skin of his side. Stiles was rambling on, but Scott couldn’t really focus on him.

“-and my dad’s pretty worried. Pilgrims are supposed to be protected on El Camino, but they still haven’t found any sign of what might have done it, or the rest of the body-”

Scott snapped back to reality. “Wait. The body. I saw it last night. Well, most of it. Maybe I could find it again. It was right near Hale land.”

“Seriously? Oh man.” Stiles was immediately making plans for them to go back out and find the body and solve the mystery and be heroes. Scott ignored him. There was absolutely no way he was going back out there.

Deaton was letting them watch the procession from his roof, and Scott welcomed the distraction. They scrambled out one of the upper windows onto the terra cotta tiled roof above the shop. The slope wasn’t too steep, and there was a narrow gutter for them to perch in, but Scott had never felt entirely comfortable up there. Today was different though. He felt fine, like he was balanced better or something.

A small band of knights passed by below them with their squires bearing bright banners and signs proclaiming their masters' deeds.

"How cool would it be to be a knight?" Stiles asked. "Travel the world, help people, fight against injustice."

"End up in bed with attractive ladies."

Stiles shoved Scott. "You know Lydia is the only lady for me. But I could do grand deeds to win her favor if I were a knight. And I wouldn’t have to put up with the stupid monks at the monastery.”

“Life’s not too bad here,” Scott pointed out. “Anyway, remember that knight Sir Finstock who passed through a few months ago? Remember his poor squire Greenberg? Do you really want to put up with that? Best to leave that sort of thing in the songs. It's better there. Nobody’s really like Arthur or El Cid.”

“Not even some of the time?”

“No!”

“Oh my God!” Stiles flailed, and barely avoided sliding off the roof.

Sir Argent himself entered the square with his helm on and his armor gleaming. His banner was brilliant in the sun: three blue figures on a white field - a sun above a beast passant, above three links of a chain.

“Interesting standard,” said Stiles squinting at it. “What is that animal?”

“A wolf,” Scott said without hesitation.

“I’m impressed you can see that far. Hey! The Hale standard has a wolf on it too. That’s weird.”

Scott heard a sudden burst of laughter. He frowned in confusion, but Stiles hadn’t reacted and there was no one else nearby.  
He heard it again, this time with a voice too. “Mother, you worry too much. I’m used to moving. Anyway, it looks like a lovely town.”

He looked around, trying to find the speaker. A pair of female riders entered the square. Scott was transfixed by the girl. She had long, dark hair, and pale skin that looked even paler against her dark blue gown.

“Who’s that do you think?” he asked wonderingly.

“Don’t even think about it, man. She’s a knight’s daughter. Plus, French girls are way different from girls around here.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing, since clearly neither of us is having luck with the girls around here.”

“My wooing of Lydia is going perfectly to plan, thank you very much.”

Scott laughed. Stiles jabbed him in the side, and he lost his grip and started to slide towards the ground. Scott flung an arm out and managed to snag it on one of the tiles. He must have hit a broken one, because half of it slid down the roof and shattered on the cobblestones of the square. The brief stop managed to slow him down enough that he could get his legs under him and crawl back up to the top.

“Oh my god! Are you okay? I’m so sorry, dude.”

He waved Stiles off, and looked down to make sure the falling tile hadn’t hurt anyone. It didn’t look like it, but when he glanced toward the girl she was watching him with wide eyes.

“Oh god,” he groaned. “There goes any chance at all that I had with her.”

“Let’s face it, there wasn’t a huge chance to begin with. Or maybe,” Stiles laughed, “you could switch things up, and she could be the knight and you could be the damsel in distress.”

Scott was totally going to get Stiles back for that once they were on solid ground.

\---

The next afternoon, Scott took the long way to Deaton’s. The voice in his head that sounded irritatingly like Stiles made a judging noise. He told it to shut up, and that this way was more scenic. It was technically true. He walked along the wall past the Eastern Keep, trying hard not to think about the girl. She probably lived in one of the inner rooms anyway, kept safe and out of sight of miscreant boys like him. Even if he did see her, she probably wouldn’t even acknowledge his presence. There was no point-

“Hey!”

He looked up. There she was, leaning out of an upper window with a brilliant smile and dark curls falling past her shoulder. He stumbled and almost fell.

She winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Allison. Allison Argent.”

“I’m Scott,” said Scott.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Though I think I saw you yesterday. You almost fell off the roof.”

Just great; that would be his legacy. He nodded. “That was unfortunately me.”

She laughed. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

Someone deeper in the castle called her name, and she turned to look. “I’d better go,” she said with a frown. “Maybe I’ll see you again?”

“I hope so,” he said, as she vanished back inside.

\---

The rest of the afternoon passed by in a haze. Scott probably couldn’t have told you his name if you’d asked. Deaton finally sent him home early.

When Scott slipped into the hospice’s kitchen, Stiles was there trying to convince one of the kitchen girls to give him one of the little pies she was taking out of the oven.

“I said ‘no,’ Stiles. Give it a rest.”

“Cecilia,” he groaned, “you’re breaking my heart.” He got down on his knees. “I’m begging you, please.”

He reached desperately for the tray as she passed, and she smacked him on the hand with her spoon. “No means no, idiot,” she said fondly, heading out into the main room.

“Tough luck,” said Scott. “Is your dad out tonight?”

“Yeah, still investigating. He’s going to be late, so your mom said I could stay here if I didn’t cause trouble.”

“How’s that working out for you?” Scott asked, gesturing at the slap mark on Stiles’s hand.

“Eh,” he shrugged. “Anyway, how are you today? Still feeling weird?”

“A bit. I’m still hearing, smelling, and seeing things I probably shouldn’t be able to, but I feel okay otherwise, so I don’t know.”

Stiles laughed. “Maybe you’re possessed or something.”

“Don’t joke about that!”

“Sorry, sorry. Look, I’m sure it’s nothing. There’s just been a lot of excitement lately. Everyone’s a bit jumpy.”

The door to the kitchen burst open and they both jumped.

“You’ll never guess who just came in,” gushed Cecilia. “It’s Lord Derek Hale!”

“What!?” Stiles leapt across the room to peer out the door. “Holy Hell! It is!”

Scott followed more sedately. His mother was greeting a tall man in a blank mantle. He had a dark, glowering face, and a frown, and he was looking right at Scott.

He ducked back into the kitchen, heart pounding.

Stiles and Cecilia were talking in hushed tones.

“-haven’t seen him in years-”

“-not since the fire-”

“-so tragic-”

“-whole family gone-”

“-handsome though-”

“-I wonder where he’s been all these years?”

Scott felt - strange. He barely knew Derek Hale, had heard of him when he was younger and maybe seen him once or twice, but he wanted him gone. He didn’t want this strange lord inside his walls.

His mother came into the kitchen. “Cecilia, some of the good beer for Lord Hale. Scott, go see to his horse would you? Stiles - don’t break anything.”

Scott passed through the main room to the front door, and felt Hale’s eyes on him the whole time. There was a gorgeous black Arabian horse in the courtyard, with a large, sandy hunting dog sitting beside it.

“Hey buddy,” Scott said, reaching a hand tentatively towards the dog’s head. The dog growled lightly, then sniffed the air and instantly relaxed. Scott curled his fingers in his soft, thick ruff, and the dog’s tail thumped against the cobblestones. “You’re certainly friendly, aren’t you? Come on, let’s get your friend stabled, then I’ll get you some food.”

The dog barked happily and followed Scott into the stables. There were a few other horses already boarded, and they shifted awkwardly when the three of them entered. The dog was extremely well behaved; it sat calmly watching as Scott got the horse’s saddle off and gave it some hay and water. Then it trotted at his heels as he went around to the kitchen door, and sat by the door while he put together some food for it.

Cecilia and Stiles were gossiping in the corner.

“It’s weird that he and Argent arrived practically on the same day.”

“Maybe he’s back because of Argent? He and his sister went south after the fire, I heard. Maybe he’s working for some taifa lord now, and has come back to throw out the Christians and reclaim his land with a Muslim army at his back.”

“Cecilia,” Stiles said firmly, “You need to stop listening to Jackson and his friends. That’s never going to happen. We’re too far north and too close to France.”

She pouted, then brightened again. “Maybe he’s come to marry Argent’s daughter.”

Scott growled at that, and Stiles shot him a look. “Cecilia, why don’t you see if he needs anything else?”

She bustled out cheerfully, and Stiles turned to Scott. “Seriously, are you okay? You’re acting weird.”

“I think I might be getting sick. I haven’t felt well since the night in the woods.”

He set the food down for the dog, and he licked his hand before starting to eat. Scott scratched idly behind his ears.

“What kind of dog is that anyway? It looks more like a wolf.” Stiles walked towards it, and the dog growled at him. “Alright, alright. Sorry if I offended you. Your new friend doesn’t like me, Scott.”

“Probably because you smell.”

“Ha ha. You’re hilarious. I hate you.”

Bickering cheerfully, they went and got their dinners.

\---

About an hour later, Scott heard his mom as she walked towards the kitchen.

“You really ought to stay the night. It’s not safe on the road after dark, especially right now. We’ve got plenty of rooms.”

“I need to get back. It’s not far, and I’m well protected.”

“Very well,” his mother said reluctantly, and popped her head into the kitchen. “Scott, go fetch Lord Hale’s horse.”

Lord Hale himself followed him out to the stables making Scott feel tense and prickly. The hair on the back of his neck was standing up. The horses in the stable must have been feeling the same way, because they started shifting and kicking at the walls the second they entered. Hale nodded thoughtfully as Scott took his horse out and got its saddle on. The hunting dog reappeared and butted against Scott’s legs, and Hale looked even more curious. Scott rushed through the grooming, eager for Lord Hale and his strangeness to be gone.

He unlatched the front gate, and Hale prepared to ride out. Before he left, he turned in the saddle and said, “I hear you’ve been trespassing on my land. Come to my castle before the next full moon. There is much we should discuss.”

Before Scott could ask exactly what he meant by all that, Hale was cantering away, his dog at his side.


	3. Chapter 3

Life went on, as it did, and Scott forgot all about Lord Hale’s cryptic warning. He went to work at Deaton’s, and helped his mother with the hospice. He hung out with Stiles and saw Allison three times in the square. Well, across the square. And admittedly one of those times was through the open gate of the Keep, but another one of the times she had smiled at him, so overall it was a success. 

He was still feeling weird though, out-of-sorts. He could hear things happening clear across the inn, and he’d knocked over a full cask of ale in the cellar and then lifted it back into place without breaking a sweat. He’d only told Stiles about it, and the look of alarm on his friend’s face had been worrying enough that he’d decided not to tell anyone else.

Scott stood with him and the sheriff in Mass the next Sunday, and while the sheriff kept his attention dutifully forward, Stiles seemed more distracted than normal. He kept darting his eyes around the building and muttering under his breath. He was still in trouble for sneaking out the other night and couldn’t get away from his father like they usually did when they got bored in church.

Scott had a smattering of Latin, but only enough to understand some of the labels in Deaton’s shop and stores. The sung Latin of the Mass was familiar, but he had no idea what it meant, so he found his mind wandering. He noticed Allison Argent towards the front of the nave with her mother and father. She looked radiant in another fine gown. Scott spent a productive rest of Mass composing a poem for her. It was hard to find a rhyme for ‘ivory’ though...

Stiles vanished the second the Mass was over. Scott poked around to see if he was hiding in one of their usual nooks, but figured he must have gone into the monastery for some reason and gave up. Over the ever-present wall of incense, Scott caught a whiff of roses and paused, hunting for its source. A girl was standing by the shrine to La Guía. Her head was turned away, but Scott recognized Allison.

“Hello,” he said.

She turned in surprise and smiled when she saw him. “Hi Scott,” she said, and his heart leapt. “Who’s she?” she asked, fingers brushing the stone. “I’ve never heard of her.”

“Oh. She’s La Guía de las Colinas, a local saint. She rescued some pilgrims from wolves and led them safely out of the mountains. We have a procession for her in the winter. People dress up as wolves, there’s good beer - it’s a fun time.”

“I’ll look forward to it then,” she said with a soft smile.

“Allison?” a woman’s voice called.

“My mother.” Allison frowned. “We keep getting interrupted, don’t we?”

“I know a place we can hide. That is, if you aren’t scared of a ghost.”

She laughed. “Bring it on.”

He took her hand, feeling a little thrill at her touch, and pulled her into the next chapel. A statue of the Virgin gazed placidly down at them, and Scott crossed himself automatically. On the right wall, a monument to a distant Lord Hale was set into a niche. There was just enough room for two not-quite-grown people to squeeze behind it.

Allison crouched down and peered around the corner of the tomb without letting go of Scott’s hand. He could hear his heart beating in sync with Allison’s, and he smiled.

“She passed by,” Allison whispered. “This was a good idea. How’d you find this place?”

Scott told her all about his and Stiles’ explorations of the abbey and finding all the hidden places. How they’d used to be scared that a ghost would pop out of the tomb and gobble them up, and how they’d climbed up on the roof to try and catch birds.

Allison laughed. “Did you ever catch one?”

“Rarely,” Scott admitted. “Maybe I’ll try again, and uh, catch one for you.”

“I’d like that.”

“I would offer to write you songs, or slay dragons, but I’m not very good at either of those things.”

“I shouldn’t think you’d get much practice slaying dragons. Are there many around here?”

“Well,” Scott laughed. “No. Nothing ever happens around here.”

\---

A cart overturned in the square the next day, pinning an old pilgrim beneath it. Without thinking, Scott bolted from Deaton’s shop to help. He reached in and checked to make sure he wouldn’t hurt the man further before lifting the cart out of the way.  
Stiles had finally caught up, and the two of them checked the man for injuries. Some men of the town had gathered too and were inspecting the cart.

“That was amazing, kid,” one of them said, clapping Scott on the shoulder. “That cart’s pretty heavy.”

“It must have been La Guiá,” Stiles burst out, pinching Scott’s side stealthily. “We prayed to her yesterday. She must have helped him save this poor pilgrim. We should go leave her an offering, in thanks.” He gave Scott a significant look.

“Yeah,” he said. “That sounds like a good idea.”

The people nearby nodded and a couple of them muttered prayers of their own.

Stiles took Scott’s arm and dragged him away. As they went, Scott caught a glimpse of Allison on the wall of the Keep.

\---

“Dude! What the hell was that?”

“What was what?” Scott asked with a frown. “That guy was in trouble and I saved him. What’s the problem?”

“How did you lift the cart though? That wasn’t just amazing, it was impossible.”

Scott frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re cursed, Scott.”

Scott stared at Stiles in disbelief. Then he laughed. “Good one, Stiles. You got me this time.”

“No- I’m not- Scott, listen to me. I’ve been doing research. I snuck a look at the bestiary in the abbey library. Melancholia canina - you’re a werewolf. It explains pretty much everything.”

Scott laughed. “Do I look like a wolf to you, Stiles?”

“Maybe it needs a trigger or something. None of the books mentioned it being caused by bites, so maybe it’s something different, but it seems to make sense. You can see, hear, and smell things better. Then there’s that thing with the cart today. And don’t think I haven’t noticed - you used to get winded climbing stairs, but we practically just ran here and you’re fine.”

“You’re being ridiculous, Stiles. It’s been almost a month since the bite and I haven’t turned into a wolf and killed everyone. I think I’ll be fine. I’m going to go back and see if I can see Allison again.”

“Scott!” Stiles grabbed at Scott’s arm, and Scott saw red.

He shoved Stiles back into the wall and snarled at him. “Leave it, Stiles!”

He didn’t wait to hear Stiles’ response, just stomped off back to the inn.

\---

There was a statue of Saint James the Pilgrim in the monastery. He and Stiles always giggled at the silly expression on his face. He was dressed in the typical pilgrim garb - wide-brimmed hat, long cloak, walking staff, and scallop shell that was the symbol of El Camino. The boy who had just walked into the inn was dressed almost identically.

It was kind of funny actually. Except for the fact that the boy sat in the corner and smirked at Scott all night. It set his teeth on edge. He was clearing the dishes off an empty table when he heard a voice.

“Derek wants to talk to you. He’s not happy you haven’t stopped by the castle yet.”

Scott looked around, but there was no one nearby.

The mysterious voice continued. “Admittedly, the castle isn’t much right now, but we’re working on it. Derek’s got a ton of questions for you. You must have some of your own. How you can hear me for instance? When I’m all the way across the room?”

Scott spun around, and caught the boy staring at him. He grinned wickedly when their eyes met, and Scott shivered.

“Why don’t you come say hi?” asked the voice, and Scott could see the boy’s lips moving.

Against his better judgment, he made his way over. The boy kicked a chair out, and Scott sat down warily. “Who are you?”

“The name’s Isaac. I run with Derek Hale. He wants to meet you.”

“We’ve met,” Scott said shortly.

“Yeah. He’s not the best people person. Which is why he sent me to get you.”

“And why should I go with you?”

“Because you’ve got questions. Everyone does after they’re bitten.”

“‘Everyone’ - what? How did you know I was bitten?”

“See? Questions.” Isaac smiled. “The one who bites you is supposed to stick around and explain the rules to you. Obviously that didn’t happen, and since we’re here to deal with the rogue anyway, Derek thought it would be wise to show you the ropes. A show of good faith, if you will, and to establish himself as Alpha of this area.”

“None of that makes sense.”

“I can’t really explain it. Not here.”

Scott stood up angrily. “If you can’t tell me what I’m getting into, then I see no point in going.”

Isaac moved faster than Scott had thought possible and grabbed his wrist. “Look,” he pleaded, “You’ve got to come. It’s nearly the full moon. My first moon, I nearly killed someone. You can’t let that happen. Not to the people you love.”

Scott thought of his mother and blanched. If this whole thing was somehow connected to the deaths on El Camino he would never forgive himself if anything happened to her. But he didn’t trust this boy and he definitely didn’t trust Derek Hale, a lord who would so easily abandon his lands. He pulled away and Isaac let him go.

“The full moon’s in two nights. You’ll need a Pack by then if you want everybody to be safe.”

Scott was already halfway across the room, but he heard every word.

\---

Another body turned up in the hills the next morning, and Isaac smirked at him over a bowl of soup that evening. Scott stomped over to his table and sat down heavily. “I didn’t do it.”

“No. I would have heard you leave. It’s probably the rogue. Do you see now? It’s a dangerous world without people to watch your back.”

Scott frowned and tapped his fingers on the table. “I should tell Stiles where I’m going,” he decided at last. “He can tell my mom that I’m not dead and make excuses for where I’ve gone. When should we leave?”

“Tonight.”

“Okay,” Scott nodded. “Okay.”


	4. Chapter 4

They made it out of the city easily - Isaac was exceptionally good at avoiding the guards - and were safely on the road into the mountains before the last of the red light faded from the sky. The river was wide and flat around the town, but up in the hills it twisted and curved, rushing over rocks in a race down the mountain. Scott and Isaac followed it against the current under the cover of gloaming.

The way to the Hale Castle was overrun with weeds and small trees, but Isaac picked his way along it easily, despite the fact that the only light they had was from the full moon.

“Good thing the moon’s full,” Scott said as he narrowly avoided tripping over a tree root.

“Tomorrow night,” Isaac said.

“Huh?”

“The moon’s not full until tomorrow night.”

Scott looked up at the bright, round disc. “Looks full to me.”

“You’d know if it was full,” Isaac said with a dangerous smirk.

The drawbridge leading up to the castle was new - the last time Scott had been here, he and Stiles had had to scramble through the grass-filled moat - but it was made of rough-hewn, fire-scorched logs. When they passed through the still largely intact gatehouse, Isaac relaxed a bit, straightening up and cracking his neck. Scott heard movement above the ceiling and looked up, swallowing nervously at the sight of the murder holes.

“Those, uh - those don’t work, right?”

“We don’t use them,” Isaac smirked, “but they still work.”

A door creaked open and a large dog padded out. It looked a lot like the one that had accompanied Lord Hale the other day, but it was lighter and sleeker. Isaac curled a hand in its thick ruff. Scott reached to pet it too, but the dog bared its teeth. Isaac chuckled. “Play nice,” he said to the dog.

The wooden buildings inside the wall were almost entirely destroyed by fire and they loomed in terrifying ways in the darkness. Accompanied by the dog, Isaac led him into the keep. They walked on a narrow pathway around a huge pit that must once have been the grand central hall, and then up a spiral staircase that was barely intact. Lord Hale and his associates had apparently taken up residence in one of the smaller halls that was far less damaged. Although there was no roof; smoke and sparks from a large fire drifted up to the open air.

Another boy was tending to the fire, and Lord Hale was sprawled across a half-rotted chair. The dog trotted to his side and flopped down next to him, bumping its head against his hand demandingly.

“Hello, Scott,” he said. “Have a seat.”

Isaac gestured to a fallen chunk of stone, and Scott sat warily.

“What is this about?”

“You were bitten by something, and then you started noticing strange things. Seeing and hearing things you shouldn’t. I imagine you didn’t notice your claws or you would have accepted Isaac’s story much more quickly. Perhaps your friends noticed something was strange?”

“What is this about?” Scott repeated.

“Isaac, would you?”

Isaac grinned and started to take off his clothes. Scott blushed and looked away, confused.

“Watch,” insisted Lord Hale, and - before Scott’s eyes - Isaac shivered and shifted into the dog from the other night.

Scott gaped. The dog looked up at him and lolled his tongue out, baring his teeth in a grin that was exactly the same as Isaac’s.

“You were bitten, and now you’re a werewolf, like us.”

“Like all of you?” Scott asked.

The dog that had walked them in earlier stood up, shivered, and suddenly there was a girl standing there naked. “My name’s Erica,” she said, “and this is Boyd.”

The other boy was handing her a chemise which she shrugged on quickly, for which Scott was very grateful. Boyd nodded at Scott, and went back to his seat.

Long into the night, Derek and the others answered his questions, showing off their skills and getting him to practice a little bit. Finally Derek ordered them all to bed.

“Tomorrow night is the full moon. You’ll stay with us, Scott; we’ll keep you and everyone in town safe.”

\---

The sun was dipping low in the west when Scott woke up the next day. He couldn’t believe that he’d slept so long. Isaac grumbled unhappily, and curled into his recently vacated spot on the mat. Scott wandered down to the hall where Boyd and Erica were cooking something over the fire.

“He awakens,” Erica laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Her hair was gorgeous. There weren’t many people in town with light hair, and certainly none with curls so lovely - though Stiles would probably beg to differ and demand justice for his darling Lydia.

Boyd noticed him looking and growled lightly, eyes flashing gold. That was one thing that Scott couldn’t get over. The claws, fangs, and what Derek had referred to as the ‘Beta shift’ were all strange and frightening, but the glowing eyes put Scott in mind of the stained glass depictions of saints in the monastery.

Erica’s ancestors were Norsemen, but her family moved from Constantinople to Cordoba generations ago, when it was the capital of the caliphate. Boyd’s family came over more recently when the Almoravid Dynasty expanded their empire across the Strait of Gibraltar. Boyd’s grandfather told him stories of seeing the Pillars of Hercules as they crossed. Erica liked to joke about Boyd stealing her family’s power, but Scott could tell it was an old joke, like the kind he and Stiles had. This strange little family was growing on him.

Isaac came down, and the four of them set upon the roasted deer haunches. Derek entered, and Scott noticed how all the attention immediately snapped to him. Isaac handed him a cut of meat that had been set aside, and he settled into his chair. They all took up seats with their food and flagons of ale, and sat quietly for a long while.

Erica broke the silence awkwardly. “Would you tell it, Derek?”

A shadow passed over his face, and he sunk lower in his chair so that Scott could barely see him over the flames.

"When El Camino was first laid out, it didn't go through these mountains. It went around, for miles and miles. The wolves were the only ones who could travel the paths because they could travel on four feet. They tried to keep the humans away, to keep them out of the mountains where death waited at every turn, but humans are stubborn. They kept coming, always looking for ways in.

“On the night of the new moon, a group of travelers entered the mountains. One of my ancestors - one of _your_ ancestors - begged the moon to help her. Now that the humans had found their way in, she must do all in her power to get them safely to the other side. The moon granted her request, but not in the way she had expected. The moon lent her some of her light, yes, but the moon knew that humans would not trust her, so she changed her shape into that of a human. The wolf-girl led the humans to safety with the help of her Pack. Thereafter, she was able to retain her human shape, although, she always returned to wolf form at least once a month, on the full moon, to honor the one who had helped her.”

Erica sighed, and leaned further into Boyd.

“Things were better then,” Derek said softly. “The people knew that the wolf-girl had saved them, so they honored her and her kind. Al-Andalus was kind to people like us; their laws allowed us to live openly, not hide in ruins like we must now. People like us were accepted then. We could run free and without fear.”

Derek sighed and looked up at the sky. "The moon will be up soon. We’ll shift here and get acquainted. Then I want at least two of us with him at all times, and stay within the moat. The other two will run short, _short_ patrols."

Erica groaned.

"I know, but there's plenty of room and it will be safer. The rogue will almost certainly try and claim you, Scott, and we all have to be ready. Remember your training, and remember what this bastard did to Laura."

“Who’s Laura?” Scott asked in confusion. “What happened to her?”

Isaac, Erica, and Derek pulled away, looking upset. Boyd leaned in and said quietly, “Derek’s sister. She was the Alpha, and she’s the one who bit the three of us. She was coming back here to visit when the rogue killed her. That’s why we’ve got to find him.”

“Oh.” Scott flashed back to the torso of a woman he’d found in the woods. Could that have been-?

“Come on. It’s time.”

\---

Scott had only vague memories of the night. It was harder to remember things as a wolf; senses and emotions didn’t translate the same way. They stayed within the castle walls, and there was something nice about running with the others. He could feel it in the way his wolf responded, but at the same time, there was an uneasiness. These wolves weren’t really his Pack; they weren’t entirely the same as him. He could feel another one out there in the woods, one more like him. His wolf longed to go after that feeling.

He got his chance a few hours before dawn. Derek and Boyd had gone to run the perimeter, and Erica and Isaac were on guard duty. They were clearly tired and irritated about being confined, and had started heckling each other. Erica bit a little too hard and the sniping turned into snarling. The gate was right there, and Scott went for it.

He made straight for the deepest woods, not sure how he knew where to go, but feeling pulled nonetheless. He could hear at least one wolf following him, but more importantly he could hear another wolf ahead of him.

This time the red eyes weren’t terrifying so much as welcoming. Huge fangs were bared in a close approximation of a smile, and the hulking, barely wolf-like body loomed over him. And then suddenly it wasn’t.

Derek, who must have been right on his heels, had slammed into the Alpha, and the two of them tumbled off into the underbrush. Scott followed, unsure what exactly he was going to do, when an arrow slammed into his front leg. It was enough to shock him out of the wolf form, but the sight of a crossbow bolt through his arm was even more alarming.

Boyd appeared and yanked the bolt out with a cry of, “Run!”

Scott did, but he couldn’t resist throwing a look behind him, and what he saw chilled him to the bone. Standing in the clearing, surrounded by knights and bearing a crossbow and sword, was Sir Argent, Allison’s father.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to be as accurate as possible in both my medieval history and my Spanish, but if anyone notices problems, please let me know! Also, if you have questions, leave them in the comments, or my ask box on tumblr (rosewindow.tumblr.com).


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